Cameras and Threads
by Norikita
Summary: An AU where Jean is a model, and Marco is a photographer. Marco saw Jean on the runway once, and Marco couldn't let go since then. Warning : MarJean (yaoi)
1. Chapter 1

**Author's note : **HAHAHAA HOW LONG HAS IT BEEN, FOLKS uwu I was whipping up a new concoction, which was apparently, another Marco/Jean fanfic! XD This one is set in a model AU. Model!Jean and Photographer!Marco. uwu and yes, there WILL be smut. Just not in this chapter. o3o but i will put a warning if it contains smut! uwu also, rated M for smut (though again, not on this chapter), and has yaoi in it. Hope you guys dig it! uwu The next chapter will probably come out in a week or two, alongside with a new chapter of 'Toying Around', huzzah! o3o

* * *

"Bodt!"

A voice called from the other side of the office. He couldn't really hear it clearly though, since he was using his headset. It was always his thing, to work while listening to music. Yet doing so didn't make him feel distracted from work at all. It only made him feel much more comfortable with it. Marco pulled his headset off while his head jerked upwards, looking around trying to find the source of the voice. "... Maybe it was just my imagination.", he shook his head as he looked back at his computer screen again. Surely, the lighting on this winter photo shoot was not that well, but he could manage.

"Bodt!", that voice reached his ears again when he was about to put on his headset. Marco replied at that instant, "Yes! Coming!", he said as he walked quickly to the source of the voice, almost tripping over Leonhardt's trash bin.

Here he was, standing in front of a table with the name plate "Ymir, Head of Photography" on it. The name already made him nervous, and the female sat down to the office chair behind the table after noticing Marco's arrival. She sighed, and Marco somehow, felt like it was a bad thing. The sigh felt like it lasted for an _eternity._

"What do you think of this?", the female with the ponytail asked, slapping some photos onto the table. Marco shifted his feet uncomfortably as he stood in front of the table, "Well, the lighting is not that good, considering how dark it looked...", he said with a slightly embarrassed smile playing on his lips. He knew _exactly _who took those photos and who managed the photo shoot.

"And?", the female continued, her eyes still latching into Marco's, and her face looked utterly dissatisfied. He tilted his head down to look at the pictures. "The timing seems a little bit off.", he paused, trying to find words to explain his previous sentence, "There was not much cooperation between the model and the photographer.", he shifted his eyes back up to the lady in front of her.

"Marco, do you know who took these photos?", she asked with a serious tone as she rested knotted her hands together and rested her chin on it. Marco nodded. He opened his mouth to give a complete answer, but a nod was enough for her, "When was it taken?", she asked. "A year ago.", Marco gulped, "Right before i joined the Freiheit magazine crew.", he added. He closed his eyes for a moment before opening again, a bead of sweat rolled down from his forehead. He was not ready to get fired. Taking photographs of people and things around him was the only thing he was good at. He tried cooking, even knitting, none of them worked out for him. If the manager, Irvin Smith, would fire him, he would be dead. He would no longer have a place to live, and no money to pay for food.

"Exactly!", suddenly Ymir stood from her office chair with her hands on her hips and laughed. Marco was confused by the sudden change of expression. Ymir laughed even louder, "You have improved so much, or so the boss said.", she pulled a smirk on her face, before sitting down on the chair again. She grabbed a small cup of coffee and chugged it down. After she set the beverage aside, she looked at Marco with the_ 'you - are - so - fucking - lucky'_ look, "He decided to send you to Milan next week, to take some photos in Milan Fashion Week.".

Marco almost shrieked in excitement.

* * *

And here he was, on one of the seats in Milan Fashion Week. He wore his best clothes. Even though he was only there to take photos of the models, he couldn't afford to be beaten by people who were attending the show as well. A photographer for a fashion show must be as fashionable as the fashion designs themselves, that was what he thought. He looked at his clock nervously. The runway was still empty, but the seats around the runway were already full of people. Marco had never been in a fashion show before. Well, he had, but not _this _grand. Milan Fashion Week was a whole new level for Marco. He could hear the talk of the people around him. Obviously, the people around him were fashion enthusiasts. Or, journalists and photographers like him.

While waiting, he thought again how could he even be there. The next moment after Ymir told him he was going to take some photos in Milan Fashion Week, she handed him a ticket, scheduled for a few days after that day to Milan. He was also given the money for accommodation, and also food. This was a new experience for him, and for him, it meant that he was _promoted _(though not as in title, but he was trusted for something this big to him, so for him it was a great achievement). Did it mean that he would get a higher salary? He hoped so.

He was not the only one sent by Freiheit Magazine to Milan. Armin Arlelt, a journalist from the magazine, was also sent here, to accompany Marco (since this was his first time going to Milan, Armin had gone there a few times). Armin insisted for him to take a seat wherever he wanted, while Armin would go to the backstage and interview some models. "But what about the exclusive backstage photos?", Marco asked him earlier. Armin told him he could still take a few shots after the show had ended. Marco doubted this, but nonetheless, he did what Armin had said. After all, he was the one who went to Milan first.

The lights went off, the bass was echoing through the speakers, and Marco knew that this was his cue to get ready.

He checked his camera settings again (he was never comfortable with the 'semi auto' mode, he prefers manual to semi auto), before nodding to himself, excitement pumping in his veins. Marco wasn't much of a fashion enthusiast, but he always was excited to see what the fashion designers have came up with to surprise the world. Also, this was a very important task for him (in fact, his _first _very important task). He couldn't mess it up.

A model walked out from one side of the stage, and walked on the runway as the lights slowly went on again.

Marco swore, the way the model's hips moved... It was... _Un - natural_. He couldn't even push the capture button on his Cannon camera, he felt his hands shaking and his body trembling. Marco couldn't let his eyes off from the male model. The outfit wasn't that much, it was quite simple, actually. It was only a green turtleneck sweater with leather patches on the elbows, with a knee - length khaki pants. Accompanied with a pair of oxford shoes and a pair of black socks.

Was it because of the way he walked? The way his legs ventured on the runway... It seemed like every step he took was rhythmic, with the music. The way the model's hazel eyes were focused on no one, like no one was there. He was only there alone, with himself. His brown hair and his undercut matched his outfit _perfectly_, the way he turned on the runaway is simply... _Eye catching_.

Marco shook his head. "Right! I got a job to do!", he said to himself, trying to remember his purpose going to Milan Fashion Week. His task was to take photos, not to check out some random strangers walking on the runway. He slowly lifted his arms and took photos of the models. He made himself sure that he took more than ten photos per - model, especially of that _guy_.

* * *

"Marco!", Armin repeated himself. Marco shook his head once, before turning to Armin with an embarrassed smile. He was kind of spacing out. "Did you manage to take some photos of the models?", Armin asked with a concerned face. This is Marco's first time in a huge fashion event, of course, but he shouldn't be _that _worried. Marco was a photographer, nonetheless. He knew what his job was and he took care of it.

"Yeah, i did.", he answered with a proud smile. He pressed the 'gallery' button on his camera, and appeared a bunch of photos of the models that were on the runway. "This one is really good!", Armin pointed at one particular photo. Marco didn't need to zoom in to know who it was. It was _that _model. "You captured the photo in the right angle, the right lighting, and even the right momentum too!", Armin continued. "Not to mention you really did capture his expression-"

Marco couldn't hear the rest of what Armin had said about the photo. All he could focus on was on the person _in _the photo.

In which, he got an idea.

"Armin, have you interviewed the models in the backstage?", Marco asked, hoping that Armin would forget about interviewing them and they all have to go in. If he already did, Marco could still go in, though. But Marco just didn't have enough courage to be in a place so alien to him alone, especially with a guy who could screw him up.

"Yes, i have.", Armin answered. Marco let his face slid into a frown for a moment, and Armin was quick to notice it. "But we haven't got any photos. I could accompany you in getting some.", Marco lifted his head a bit. "Or, do more interviews while you're at it.", Armin added. Marco's lips slid into a relieved smile, "Thank you!", he replied. Armin nodded in response, before walking towards the backstage, waving an arm towards the place as a signal for Marco to follow him.

* * *

The place was full of models (obviously), make up artists, and fashion designers checking out on their creations. Marco looked around for the 'mysterious model', but his search was interrupted with a pat behind his back. "Marco? Are you looking for someone?", Armin asked, his face showed that he was a little bit puzzled. Marco scratched the back of his head, shaking his head, "No, i wasn't.", he laughed a little. "Well, we should do this quick.", Armin shrugged, trying to shook his confusion off (which didn't quite work, but he covered it quite good; Marco didn't notice this), "The top models could be leaving soon, and we-"

"What the fuck is your problem, Jaegar?!"

A loud, booming voice was heard from the other side of the room. Marco, quicker to notice it before Arlelt did, turned his head to the source of the voice, finding the person he was looking for standing right there with his shirt off, and his fists balled next to his sides. "You're my fucking problem!", the shorter, browned haired male in front of the model, replied. "What is _your _problem, Jean?! I didn't do anything wrong!", the brown haired male added, his words seething with anger and confusion. _So his name is Jean, _Marco smirked, actually glad that he found out about this (even though it was full accidental).

The brown haired male turned a bit, and Marco could see his left cheek was bruised. Oh, so the model he was looking for had punched him before. Was that it?

"Eren, you little shit!", the man who seemed to be Jean replied, clenching his fists before landing a blow to the shorter male's (who seemed to be Eren) abdomen. Eren managed to dodge it, and landed a blow on Jean's lower jaw instead, sending him stumbling backwards across the floor. No one dared do anything, or say anything about this situation. They only stood there, and watch as the fight went on, and the bruises became more and more visible and severe. Eventually, there was blood shed on both sides (though not much).

Then, Armin realized something.

"Marco!", Armin almost half yelled. Marco jerked upwards a bit, surprised, as he turned to look at Armin. "Take photos! This could be a hot news!", Armin chirped, slowly clapping his hands. Marco hesitantly nodded, and slowly took photos of the fight.

But most of the time, he got distracted by the beads of sweat dripping down on Jean's naked chest, leaving the skin glistening. Marco tried to remind himself numerous of times in his head that he was here to take photos, and again, not to check out the models. He also constantly looked down at his pants, because he felt that it was somehow hot. His pants didn't seem like it was tented, and he has never been_ that_ relieved in his whole life.

"FUCK!", Jean cursed as a small amount of blood drippled down from his jaw to his hands. He wiped it off with the back of his hand, before lunging towards Eren again. From what it looked like, Eren was the one experienced in hand to hand combat. Jean got more bruises and blood dripping out of it than Eren did, and again, he was getting whacked again. Though he was not half bad, he could still land a few punches on Eren. Which was only a few, but stronger ones, if compared to Eren's punches which are quick but not really that strong.

"Stop it you, two."

Marco almost pushed the capture trigger on his camera but the sudden noise made him stop. And the two boys did stop fighting too. A short man (around his 20s, maybe? He didn't seem _that _old), walked and stopped by in the middle of the two. Eren and Jean, both either didn't have enough energy to fight back. _Or, _was afraid of Mr. Shorty. The short male glared at everyone in the room, and they all went back to work, instead of staring at the two models. Marco himself, even took random photos of models to distract himself. Armin, pretended that he was doing a re - check on his interviews.

"How many time do i need to tell you shits to stop messing around?", the shorter man barked. "But Levi-", the man shot a deadpan at Eren. Eren instinctively looked down to the ground, avoiding Levi's gaze. "But _sir_, Jean started it!". Jean quickly turned to Eren, "You're the one to say that!", and grabbed Eren by his shirt's collar. It seemed like they were about to start a goddamn fight again.

But then, there's the short guy. Levi kicked the two away from each other... With, a bonus kick for Eren. "Didn't i tell you two to stop fighting?", he hissed. He looked at his boots and saw some blood on it, which was probably Eren's, Jean's, or both. "Tsch.", he grabbed a tissue from his pocket and with a disgusted face, wiped the blood away from his boots. "How filthy.", he commented after he finished cleaning his boots, before walking away from the two models to dump the tissue to the trash can, careful to keep watch of the two.

"Armin?". Armin looked up from his notes, "What is it?". Marco looked around for a moment. Everyone seemed to be tidying up, and both Jean and Eren had headed towards the bathroom. Probably to clean themselves up. _Or, _resume their fight _there_. "Shouldn't we get going? Back to the hotel, i mean.", Marco continued. Armin took his phone out from his jeans pockets and checked the time. A nod was his reply, "They're all finished anyways.", Armin added. Marco let out a relieved sigh. Armin was the one to head out to the hotel they were staying in, with Marco following him suit (this is his first time in Milan, and obviously, he wouldn't know much about which route should they pick).

* * *

Once the two got to the hotel, Armin was the first one to sleep (after checking on his interviews and moving the data to his laptop, and also sending a report to Ymir with how things were going). While Marco, could only lay on his bed. Still thinking about Jean. He sighed, _Why can't i stop thinking about him?_, he pondered, _What's so special about him?_. "Mmm... Mikasa, Eren...", Armin mumbled in his sleep, which almost made Marco jumped.

He turned twice, thrice on the bed, before sitting up. He looked at the square wooden clock hung on the wall, "1 AM.", he mumbled to himself as he let himself flop back down onto the bed. Marco needed to sleep, but he couldn't. His work was not done yet, there were still a lot more tasks for him to finish, tomorrow.

But Marco, the brilliant boy he was, got an idea.

He jumped from the bed and slowly took his laptop out from his backpack, careful not to wake Armin up. Armin moved a little when Marco accidentally stepped on a paper, but he didn't seem like he was woken up. Marco was relieved by that, picked up the paper and set it on the table. He sat back down on the bed, with his back against the headboard, and turned his laptop on.

He had a secondary task to finish.


	2. Chapter 2

**Author's note :**askddjalskd I know I promised a new chapter every week, but I really am sorry! ;u; I'm kind of busy with school and some science Olympics so um yeah ;u; I was also sick for a few days heuheue ;3; anyways, here you have it, chapter two! It's really short, and is just some kind of interlude ;u; I decided to make the chapters not as long as the first one. Also, with this, we're 3 chapters closer to the porn *u* anyways, hope you guys dig it! U3u

After he turned on the laptop, he unlocked his phone, moving his hands on the screen until the word 'L' was formed. Marco was told a few times before that he should change the pattern used to unlock his phone, for it was too easy to guess. But he didn't listen to them, because he figured if he used a complicated pattern, he might forget about it.

He turned on the data traffic option on his phone, and the hotspot too. He set his phone on the small nightstand beside his bed, and turned to his laptop. Marco clicked the small signal button on the bottom – left of the screen, opening a small window. He was a bit worried about waking Armin up, since the way he typed and clicked wasn't exactly most quiet way to do so, but he tried to keep himself as quiet as he can. He connected his laptop to the hotspot which was his phone.

He was all set and ready to go.

He started his search by something really simple : opening up Google. He opened Google, typed in the word :_Jean Kirschtein_. He had asked Armin earlier who that model was, on their way back to the hotel.

"Armin, who was that model?", Marco asked, sipping a cup of hot chocolate he just bought. Armin tapped 'send' on his phone once, before locking it and put it in his jeans' pocket. "What?", he replied, "The one who was fighting against Eren?". Marco nodded, before taking another sip of his hot chocolate, "Wait, you know Eren?". Armin nodded, laughing a little. "Well, yes. He's one of my closest friends.", he smiled. Armin felt his phone buzzed, so he pulled it out. Apparently, he received a call from Ymir on the text message he sent earlier.

All Marco could hear was Ymir saying that the news about the two models, Jean and Eren, fighting could be really juicy; even though it happened often. From this, Marco knew that Eren and Jean often fought each other. Which left him wondering _why _were they not kicked out from their modeling agency yet.

"Hey Armin-", Marco said, but stopped his sentence because Armin waved his hand, a sign for him to tell him about it later on, since he was taking a call with Ymir. Still walking towards their hotel, Marco nodded. He wasn't the type who would disturb people when calling to ask a question or two, but he was really curious about that gorgeous male model.

"Armin, who was it?", Marco said again, his curiousity got the better of him. "The one who was fighting Eren?", he asked again. Armin knew that this had to be an important question to Marco, since again, he knew that Marco wasn't the type of people who'd disturb someone else; especially after been told not to. Armin moved his phone away from him for a moment, "It's Jean Kirschstein.", he replied, barely above a whisper before going back to his conversation with Ymir.

Suddenly, Marco felt like the hot chocolate did no good on warming his body up on the cold evening.

He clicked the 'search' button, and a thousand information popped up on his page. Trusting the first link would be the one he was looking for, he clicked it; without right – clicking it and open it in a new tab, like he usually did. Marco smirked, seeing the information on his laptop screen. The photograph seemed right, so he figured out it was the same person he was looking for, Jean.

_Name : Jean Kirschtein  
Age : 19 years old  
Modeling agency : Sina Modeling Agency_

He scrolled down the page, and found out the guy was… Actually quite famous, as a model. He previously worked and was contracted by a bunch of popular designers, like Hanji Zoe and Niles Dawk, to put on their designs and boast it to the rest of the world on the runaway. On another page, it was mentioned that he was also a close friend of Bertholdt Fubar, another popular male model. And it seemed like Jean had a love affair (of some sort) with a martial artist and female model, Mikasa Ackerman.

Marco spent some time digging up more and more about Jean, and found out some of his hobbies and where he was from. He also found out some photos of his photo shoots, in which he spent more than 2 minutes looking at each photo, admiring on how _perfectly gorgeous _Jean looked in it. Not only photos of him in magazines and such, he also found his off – duty photos, a.k.a. Jean not as a model but just as a regular fashion. Marco deem him as 'quite fashionable', as a model. Most of them, are candid shots. Marco thought Jean were even more cute in those candid shots, rather than in those magazine covers.

Armin's hand reached out and bumped the nightstand, which reminded Marco that it wasn't the right time to do this 'research'. He looked at the clock hanging on the wall. "3 AM already?", he muttered. He sighed, shutting down his laptop and turned the hotpot and data traffic option 'off' on his phone. But before turning off the data traffic on his phone, he managed to open his twitter, Bodtizzle (Marco wondered why how the hell did he even convinced himself to use that username), and followed Jean's twitter : JKirschtein.

He had to get up at 9 AM for tomorrow, for an interview with one of the famous designers. Armin said that he had been trying to interview the designer since Lord knows when, and finally got a chance to do so.

Marco yawned as he set his laptop aside, before going to sleep, smiling with hopes that the designer would bring Jean in to show Armin his newest design.


	3. Chapter 3

**Author's note :** yeah, so I'm releasing the third chapter a week early! Just basic shizz, and the jeanmarco'll be in the next chapter! ;u; well, at least the beginning of jeanmarco. If you want to skip to the jeanmarco, just wait for the next chapter! uvu fair warning, this chapter is quite a long one (2k words - ish)! ;o; anyways, I hope you like it!

* * *

"Marco, wake up!"

Marco felt two hands on both sides of his body shaking him out from his deep slumber. "Huh?", he slowly flickered his eyes, finding Armin on the left side of his bed. Armin was already neatly dressed for an occasion, but he seemed a bit stressed for early in the morning. "Come on!", he said in a hurry, walking over to his desk to grab his laptop and voice recorder. "Wha-?". Marco, still barely awake, didn't quite realize the situation. He rubbed his sore eyes a few times, before looking at the wooden clock on the wall.

It told him that it was 8 AM already.

"Shit!", Marco cursed, jumping out from his bed and dashed to the bathroom to take a quick shower. Armin let out a small relieved sigh, glad that Marco realized _why _he was hurrying things up.

Marco never liked taking a quick shower. He would always take his time, cleaning every inch of his body. He didn't like cold water that much, too. But he needed the two. He needed a quick shower, so he could arrive with Armin to the designer's place in time. And he needed a cold shower, so he could be shocked out from his systems and get woken up.

After taking his shower, he dashed out from the bathroom with only a towel on his waist. He bended down, rummaging his bag for his clothes. He should've not taken his time picking which clothes should he wear for that interview, but he had to. It was an important one. He couldn't mess this one up. So he ended up picking a green long – sleeved turtleneck, a pair of boots, a black coat (it wasn't really that cold, but just in case), and his long black pants.

"Armin, is this okay?", Marco called over to Armin, who was busy checking his phone. Armin took a quick glance at Marco, less than a second. "Yeah, it's okay. Now let's go!", he hurriedly opened the door, walking down to the lobby. Armin barely even cared about how Marco dressed, that interview was the only thing occupying his mind back then. Marco could only shook his head, as he picked up his backpack, and followed Armin down to the lobby, locking the door behind him.

* * *

They decided to take a cab to their destination. Because walking was obviously tiring, and they couldn't make it in time, if they did walk there. Inside the cab, Armin's eyes were always on his phone, and Marco found himself wondering just how busy this guy was. It was 8.30 AM, so Marco figured that Armin was getting a little bit panicky on the matter if they got to the place late. And, how'd the interview go? Armin had interviewed a bunch of popular fashion designers before, but from what he heard, this one didn't really like waiting.

On their way there, Marco had nothing to do. Armin was busy with his phone, sometimes only looking away from it to check his surroundings. And, to give directions to the driver. Marco sighed, taking out his phone from his coat's pocket. He decided to open his twitter account, and so he did. _Nothing much is happening_, he thought to himself, as his thumb moved downwards to scroll down his twitter timeline. After scrolling down for a while and finding out nothing was really interesting Marco clicked his interactions tab. As he waited for the page to refresh, he looked outside the window, taking a small bite from his bagel. Tall buildings surrounded them, and rain slowly started to drizzle from the sky, covered with gray clouds. Marco could hear Armin groaning from the front seat.

He looked back at his phone, and almost choked on his bagel after seeing the text that popped up.

_JKirschtein followed you. _

Marco's lips slid into a smirk. _No way no way he actually followed me!_, he thought. The words _'JKirschtein followed me!'_ was repeated dozens of times in his mind, like a church bell. He took a really deep breath, trying to calm himself down. But Armin (he was busy with his phone, not deaf)noticed him before he managed to. "Everything okay back there?", Armin asked, looking to the backseat, a little bit concerned. Marco looked up from his phone, "Everything's alright, nothing to worry about, Armin.", he smiled. Seemed like his smile was convincing, because Armin went back to his sighed happily, and quickly tapped on Jean's profile picture, which led him to his twitter page.

**_ JKirschtein_**_  
Model for SMA || Talk shit, get hit.|| If you're by any chance named Eren, and Jaeger, get the fuck out of my page.  
_

_Talk shit, get hit?_, Marco thought, giggling silently. Marco looked at his latest tweets, and none of them was actually really that special. Some of them are personal tweets, though most of them are promotionaltweets. In which, they were the tweets promoting him as a model. As he tried to finish his bagels, he checked out Jean's followers and following tabs too. His followers count was quite high, though (Jean is an international male model, and popular too; why wouldn't that be obvious?). After a few minutes scrolling down on Jean's page, seeing all his tweets, he found one tweet with a picture.

_Sunday night, bitches. /dgl2k1ioY3_

Curiousity got the better of him, so he clicked on the link. He was quickly led to a page with only a single picture on it : Jean. He was talking a selfie, without a shirt on; his face looking a little bit sleepy. Marco's cheeks quickly went red and he instantly looked away from his phone. From what it looked like, it seemed that Jean took a photo of himself before sleep. _Or_, pretending that he was about to sleep. Either way, it was _hot _to Marco and Marco found himself looking at Jean's toned abs for more than three minutes.

With another bite of his bagel, he decided to save the picture to his phone. He was a bit afraid that people would found out about his 'little crush' on this international model, but it wasn't like anyone would borrow his phone 24/7, he thought. Well, Armin would. But he wasn't the type who would open all the folders in one's phone. He smiled to himself after saving the picture, feeling something hammering his chest. He was about to take another bite of his bagel, but he realized that he had ran out of bagels.

"Here we a'.", the driver finally said. Armin had rummaged through his bag earlier to find his wallet. He took out the _exact _amount of money, so they didn't have to spend more time waiting for the driver to give them the change. "Here you go,", Armin gave the driver his pay. "And thank you!". Marco locked his phone off (he wouldn't want to get distracted while taking photos, would he?), and tuck it into one of his pants' side pocket as he moved to the other side of the cab (which was the closest one to the sidewalk) and opened the door. "Let's go, Marco!", Armin said as he rushed out from the cab. "Thank you!", Marco gave the driver a small nod, and the driver tipped his hat as his reply; before Marco ran to follow Armin who had already gone inside the building.

* * *

Marco and Armin were on their way back to the hotel. It was 5 PM. They had finished their interview since 12 PM, but they decided to take a walk around town, enjoying the view before tomorrow's runway.

Armin sipped his cup of decaf while scrolling through the files on his phone, "Hey, Marco.". Marco, still chewing his pretzels, only looked at Armin, unable to gave him a verbal answer. But Armin got the message, "Got any plans after this?". Marco swallowed the pretzel he was munching on earlier, "After MFW?", he said, rubbing his throat. He felt something was stuck in his throat, so he stopped walking. Marco took his bag off, and took out a small bottle of mineral water, and drank it. Armin, who was a few steps in front of Marco, realized that Marco had stopped. He stopped to rejoin Marco. Marco gave him a small nod, accompanied with a smile; a sign that everything was okay, and they could continue walking. Marco lifted his bag up again, and started to walk beside Armin.

"Yeah.", Armin nodded to himself, his eyes still on the phone. "I'm planning to throw a small barbeque party. You can come, if you'd like.", he continued as he locked his phone, and put it away in his bag. "I'd love to!", Marco smiled. "I don't think I have anything better to do after MFW, so I guess I can make it.", he added. Armin clapped his hands in excitement, bouncing up and down, "Great! I'll tell Eren that you can make it, then.", he took out his phone again, and began to dial Eren's number.

"Wait, Eren?", Marco asked, a bit confused. Wasn't Armin the one who was going to throw the barbeque party? Why did he need to tell Eren about this?

"You forgot?", Armin said, internally groaning when the operator said, _the number you're calling is out of reach, please try again later._ "I share my apartment with Mikasa and Eren.", he continued. Marco looked at him quizzically, a bit puzzled. Marco had been to Armin's apartment before, but he saw no one there, except for him and Armin. "But because of Eren's current career, he's forced to travel.", he explained. Armin hands danced across the screen of his phone, dialing Eren's number again. "And Mikasa,", he paused. Marco felt like there was something to do with that name. It was like he had heard that name somewhere before. "Well, she lives in Paris for the time being, due to her job, too.", Armin continued, saying a silent 'yes!' as he got connected to Eren.

After a few minutes calling Eren, Armin finally told Marco that it was okay for him to come. "I'm just going to message you the details later on.". Marco nodded. If Armin told him now, he might forgot about it in the future. So it was best for him to tell him later on. "Jean Kirschtein is going to come too!", Armin said innocently, without knowing the impact on Marco. The urge to meet Jean and know him better slowly consumed Marco, inside. "Well, Eren has this stupid rivalry with Jean, so I guess they'll fight and all.", Armin continued, letting a small laugh slipped from his mouth, before sipping his drink. Marco laughed along with Armin, _pretending _to laugh along with Armin.

The images that ran in his head were images of Jean, with his bare chest. His knuckles, cheeks, and chest bruised; with some of those bruises leaking out blood. Sweat dripped down and rolled on his skin, leaving it glistening, and Marco wondered how would it taste in his mouth.

"Marco?", Armin nudged Marco lightly on his arm. Marco's body jolted up a bit, a bit shocked. He was spacing out, _again_. "Huh? Oh, right.", he ruffled his own hair, slightly embarrassed. He decided to redirect the topic, "Armin, do you have any upcoming projects after this?", he asked. "Actually, I do!", Armin giggled, the tone he used for the sentence made him sound like he really wanted to talk about this subject for a long time. Maybe he wanted to.

The conversation sure went on and on, and Marco got to know Armin more. About his projects, Eren, Mikasa (and even her love life with Jean), and how Armin got his job…

But the images of Jean kept flashing in his mind as the conversation continued.

* * *

What was so special about that guy, that got Marco thinking about him all day? He certainly did not know about him much. They didn't even know each other (well, maybe except for the fact that Marco stalked Jean's twitter)!_This is stupid_, he thought to himself before going to sleep. _You barely even know him! Get a hold of yourself, Bodt!, _he scolded himself in his mind, before finally grabbing his blanket, and went to sleep.


	4. Chapter 4

**Author's note :** Here you go! Chapter 4, the beginning of all the jeanmarco3 anyhow, a fair warning, that this one is going to be quite of a long one ;o; if you want to go straight to the beginning of the jeanmarco thing (though not lovers yet, I'm taking this story reaaaal slow ;u; I'm trying to take you all into Marco's life _before _going to Jean and Marco's, and then Jean's uvu), just skip the first part of this chapter and onto the second one, separated by a line / thing / separator / idk what they are called honestly. Just some small awkward – ishjeanmarcoshizzuvuI just hope you guys dig it! Uvu also, I guess rated M bc ye a little bit of smut at the end I guess ;3; We're two chapters away from the smut, folks! O3o

* * *

It had been a few weeks since Milan Fashion Week. Marco was back in his office, and had given all the photos he took. After the photo had all been submitted, Ymir told him that he was free to do anything he wanted to, at least until the skeleton of the new issue comes up. Marco was kind of relieved that he got a few weeks off, except for the fact he didn't have many friends to hang out with. Well, he did have some friends. But most of them were miles away from him, or a bit 'distant'.

Like for example, Annie Leonhardt. Even though she had been his neighbor in both workplace and apartment, Marco didn't really know her well. Sure, he had heard a few rumors involving her, but he never really paid much attention to it. He wasn't the gossipy type, after all.

Marco laid himself on his sofa, reading a week – old photography magazine. He was bored, and couldn't figure out anything more exciting to do to pass the time, other than reading the magazine. Just when he was about to finish it, the phone on his table vibrated. Marco looked over to his phone, _who might that be?_. He picked it up with one hand, still holding the magazine with the other. He look at the caller's number. Well, he certainly didn't know who it was. The number wasn't in his contacts. But he decided to answer it anyway.

"Hello?", he asked first, wondering if it might be a prank call. "Marco Bodt?", a voice replied from the other side. At first, he thought it was a man's voice, but after paying a little bit more attention to it, he realized it was a woman's voice, even though a bit nodded, even though he knew the other wouldn't be able to see him, "Yeah, It's me.". The woman from the other side of the line paused, leaving a few seconds of silence before continuing, "I've got work for you, kid.", her tone turned into a serious one. Marco, from the other side, was curious what this job might be. Would it be an illegal one? Or would it be a legal job? His current job as a photographer of Freiheit magazine allowed him to get two jobs, or even more.

"What kind of job?", he asked, sounding a little bit worried. He was thinking that this would probably be something illegal, and he should've hung up on whoever that person was. But there was something inside of him that told him to keep it going.

"A task that a fashion photographer like you could only do.", the voice on the other side let out a small laugh. Marco sighed in relief. It wasn't something illegal.

"I'm Hanji Zoe. I'm sure you know who I am.". Marco almost gasped when he heard the name. How could he not know about her? Hanji Zoe was one of the most famous fashion critic and said that she was mad with 'recycled fashion', wearing something that had not been used (recycled into something new), or wearing something made from eco friendly materials.

Marco saw her once in Milan Fashion Week, shaking excitedly who seemed to be a friend of hers (who was shorter than her and didn't really seem amused by the model's performance or the designs). "I saw your work in Freiheit magazine.", she giggled over the other line. "I've never seen such great composition, lighting, expression, everything; in one photo!", she cheered, almost yelling. Marco had to move his phone away a bit. He could hear someone in the background (his voice was kind of familiar to Marco, but Marco couldn't figure out who it was) saying, _"Hanji, would you just fuckin' tell him already?"_. Whoever that was, he seemed displeased.

"Shh, Levi, give me a second!",Hanji replied to Levi (Marco remembered that short guy who got Eren and Jean to stopped fighting at Milan Fashion Week, it was probably the same Levi).

Hanji got back to business, "Well, I was thinking that you could probably help me with a photo shoot session?" , she asked. Marco thought it would probably about recycled fashion, and wondering if she was just asking for his help, _or_, thinking to hire him for this photo shoot. "I've hired a few models, like Kirschtein, Jaeger, and Braun. And I also-", she continued. Marco almost got a heart attack when he heard the name 'Kirschtein' mentioned. "Kirschtein? Jean Kirschtein?", he asked quickly, and realized that he had cut off Hanji's sentence. He muttered a small apology.

"It's fine, it's fine!",Hanji replied from the other line, as cheerful as ever. "Yes, Jean Kirschtein! Do you know him? I mean, personally.", she asked. Marco couldn't even decide what he should answer. _I can't say I'm his number 1 fanboy_, he thought to himself, _but if I say I'm his friend, she'll probably ask me to do her a favor or something_.

But before Marco could even answer, Hanji had already continued blabbering on, "Doesn't matter, my friend Levi here knows them _veeryyyy_well.",Hanji giggled. Marco could hear someone groaning in the background, probably continued, "You might've already guessed what the photo shoot might be about.". Marco said doubtfully, "Recycled fashion?". "Yes! I've compiled a few fashion items that people deemed _out of date_, and I decided to recycle them into something that fits today's trends!", she said joyfully from the other line, glad that Marco actually knew who she was.

_"Finish it already."_, Marco could hear Levi protesting in the background. Hanji muttered something like, _"Levi, can't you be patient?!",_which was replied by another grunt from the man. Hanji returned to the phone call, "Alright, alright. So, are you in or not?". Marco actually didn't really know that much about recycled fashion, but then again his job was only to take some shots of the models. But in order to get good ones, one should know what he or she is working with. But then again, there was another reason why Marco really wanted to accept the offer : Jean Kirschtein.

Marco frantically nodded, "Yes!".Hanji giggled, recognizing the excitement fueling Marco's voice. "Alright, I'll email you the details later!". Marco was puzzled, how the heck did this woman got his number _and _his email address? He wasn't the type of person who would leave personal information on websites or any other places. He would only give them to people he truly knew, or people in his workplace that he needed to work with. "Wait, how did you get my number and my email address?", he asked, confused. Hanji let out a small chuckle from the other side, "From Irvin! He's a close friend of mine.", and then she ended the call.

What to do during these weeks off no longer occupied his mind, what occupied his mind was how to know Jean without messing the fuck up.

* * *

Today was the day. Marco had gotten to the studio a few minutes late, because his car wouldn't start, and Marco spent more than a half an hour to try to fix it. Even though, he still couldn't. He finally decided to just take a cab to the studio, even though it took him longer to find one. Levi (who was to Marco's surprise, was even at the studio) deemed Marco's excuse unacceptable. But thank God, Hanji told him that it was okay.

"Alright! Everyone ready?",Hanji said, half yelling. Levi, grumbling on one corner of the room, took a sip of his decaf; while keeping watch of Eren and Jean who were on the other side of the room. From Levi's glare, Marco thought it could be a signal to everyone :_don't you even dare to fuck things up_.

Hanji nodded and talked to a male model in front of him. The model was BLONDEE, and quite muscular too. His skin was light, a little bit lighter than Marco's. _He seems older than me,_ Marco thought. The man walked over to Marco, alongside Hanji. "Marco, this is Reiner Braun.", Hanji said, introducing the man. Reiner smiled and his hand reached out, "So you're the one I keep hearing about, eh?". Marco accepted the other's handshake, ruffling his own hair with one hand, his lips slid into an embarrassed smile. The two then got to know each other after a while.

"Chop chop!",Hanji reminded them, and Marco was instantly snapped back into the purpose why was he here. "We don't have much time!", her eyes scanned the place, as if she was looking for someone. Then her eyes were stuck to Levi, and Levi nodded as a reply. He walked over to the back, and when he came out, Jean was with him.

Marco couldn't even think about anything anymore, because the outfit Hanji made Jean wore was exposing his perfect collarbone and chest. Even, almost to the _restricted _regions of his body. The outfit was made of some kind of leather, and it sticked to Jean's body shape like bubblegum sticks to hair. Marco sucked in a breath deeply after seeing Jean, and had to look away for a moment. He didn't want the other to see him blushing.

"This thing is a size too small.", he grumbled as he walked over to Marco. "I'm Jean. Jean Kirschtein.", he introduced himself, with a smile that made Marco want to melt. Marco felt his cheeks heat up a little, "Um—Uh—Bodt—M – Marco Bodt.", he stuttered. He took a quick glance at Hanji, and she was giggling next to Levi, who was still there with a bored expression. Marco figured out Hanji might've done this on purpose, because Eren's outfit seemed to be a size too big, and Jean's outfit a size too small.

"Got everything ready?", he asked again. Marco almost dropped the camera in his hands, "Got wh – what ready..?". Jean internally groaned, "The set, you idiot.", Jean continued, walking away from Marco to the set. Marco could only nod in embarrassment, walking over to the set to change the flash's settings.

"By the way, nice shirt.", Jean commented, motioning to Marco's moose themed turtleneck with his chin. Marco almost set the brightness way too high that It could've blinded everyone because of Jean's sentence, "Th – thanks.", he stuttered a bit, looking downwards to avoid eye contact with Jean. However, Jean's hazel eyes were demanding, so Marco _had _to look at Jean. "I have the same one at home.", he continued. "O – oh.", that was the best answer Marco could gave out. He was so terrified of ruining things and causing Jean to have a bad picture of him, that he had actually fucked things up _before _he even thought he did.

Hanji walked from the other side of the room, with Levi beside him. "Alright, I guess we can start now.", she giggled. Marco nodded, walking to the set. He stood a few meters in front of Jean, hands trembling with all the nervousness that hit him like a gigantic sea wave.

* * *

Marco threw himself onto his bed.

He wasn't _exhausted _because of the photo shoot, but the whole thing got him mad. The way Jean posed, his muscles shifting beneath his skin… The seductive smile he sometimes made… His exposed chest…. It all drove Marco _crazy _and Marco needed to look at his pants a few times during the photo shoot to make sure they weren't tented (thank God they weren't). He was wondering if this wasn't even Hanji's idea. He was wondering if this all was _Jean's _idea, like he did it on purpose.

Marco went into the bathroom and turned on the shower. He didn't want to take a bath, but he was already frustrated and all, so he figured a good shower might take his mind off Jean.

But it turned out it got him even more frustrated. Pictures of Jean naked in his shower started to cloud his mind, and Marco couldn't do anything to stop it. No matter how much he tried to think of something else, Jean popped up; again, again, and again.

Marco started to imagine how would Jean move above him, how would his lips taste, how would his chest feel, how would-

The thoughts that went in and out Marco's mind about Jean was enough to make him jerk off to the thought of Jean, in the shower, naked. "J – Jean- Hnnh-", he moaned Jean's name, pumping himself loosely. It didn't took long until he was done with it, spent. He took a few minutes to do nothing, except to think and try to find reasons (if he was able to even find _a _reason) how the hell did this happen.

He cleaned himself up, and got out from his bathroom with a towel around his waist. _Why can't I stop thinking about him_, he asked himself repeatedly in his mind, _I don't even know him! He doesn't even know me, why bother?_.This whole (probably, he hoped) one sided love (is it even love? Or just admiration?)frustrated him. He ruffled his own hair, "I should just go to sleep.", he muttered to himself, thinking that going to sleep would probably take off his mind from Jean; since shower didn't work at all.

Marco got dressed in a size – too – big t – shirt that was given to him by his uncle all the way from Belgium, and only in his boxers. He groaned, before throwing himself off to his bed, and finally got some shut eye.


	5. Chapter 5

**Author's note :** I should probably be studying for the science Olympics, but I just couldn't keep you guys waiting too much! ;u; especially after I made you guys wait for so long for chapter 2 askdjasld ANYWAYS! This chapter is mostly um yeah, jeanmarco! Also, drunk!Marco uvu rated T (for curses and stuff, I guess? And some _suggestive _shizz). This one is hella of a long one, btw. 5000 words. ;3; the longest thing I've ever written so far "OTL I planned to split this chapter up to two chapters, but then I'd have to fix everything ugh :'l So I guess I'll keep it all in one chapter! Oh, and, the smut is in the next chapter, huzzah (don't lie, I know some of you are here for the smut, am I right?). I hope you guys dig it! Oh, also, a small announcement on the bottom of the fic (that is not in any way related to the fanfic itself, I guess?).

* * *

Marco wasn't really the type who liked to party or come into small gatherings, but he wasn't the type who was totally against it either. But the strong reason why he came here, was because Armin told him that Jean would come, despite Eren telling Armin that he shouldn't have invited that horse face. But Armin insisted, saying Jean was his and Eren's friend (in a way), and it was not polite to not invite the guy. Eren gave up arguing with Armin, or so Armin told Marco.

The small barbeque party was supposed to be held in Armin's shared apartment with Mikasa and Eren. But the room wasn't really that big, and it wouldn't be called a great barbeque party if it was held indoors. Everyone agreed on the first reason, but the second one was mainly Eren's reason.

Christa offered her house for the party. Her house was, of course, bigger than Armin's room; so Armin happily accepted Christa's offer. Ymir, at first was totally against them holding a party (a _barbeque _party) in Christa's house. She was afraid that they might wreck her house and such, or even got her drunk! But Armin and the others (even Christa herself) managed to convince Ymir that it was going to be alright. There would be some alcoholic drink, but Christa promised Ymir that she wouldn't drink any of them, if Ymir agreed for the party to be held at Christa's. After thinking for a while, Ymir finally agreed, and so days after that, the party was held at Christa's.

It had been 2 hours, and Marco was still sitting on Christa's comfy vintage – themed sofa (actually, her whole house seemed a bit vintage). And still, Jean wasn't there yet. Marco had talked and chatted with some people at the party, and got to know them better (he even exchanged numbers with some of them). But still, Marco spent most of his time there staring at his phone with his thumb dancing across the screen, trying to outrun the monster that was trying to devour his character. He wasn't really into games on mobile phones, but he needed something to pass the time. He constantly checked his surroundings, hoping that the person he was waiting to see all night (also the only reason why he was here in the first place) would come. But as time pass, Marco became less and less hopeful.

"Marco, try this!"

A hand patted his shoulder lightly from his left side. Marco took his eyes off his phone, and tucked it into his pocket.

The blonde girl next to him handed a plate with grilled meat served on it, which was undoubtedly high quality meat, judging from the looks of it. "Thanks, Christa.", Marco replied with a warm smile, taking the plate from Christa. Christa only smiled, nodding as she seated herself next to Marco. "You look like you're waiting for someone.", Christa commented, while Marco kept munching the meat (which turned out to be the best thing Marco had ever eaten in his life).

Seemed like Christa had been keeping her eyes on the guests, Marco included. "Huh? No, I'm just…", Marco paused, trying to find an excuse, "I'm just not really that hungry.". Christa nodded in understanding, though her eyes told Marco that she didn't trust Marco entirely on that reason. "Okay, hey did—YMIR!", Christa yelled, quickly standing up from the sofa, her eyes were on Ymir.

Judging from how she looked; the first three buttons of her shirt were unbuttoned, holding a green bottle in one hand, wearing a smug look on her face… It seemed like she was _drunk_. "So much for asking you to not be drunk.", Marco laughed. Ymir, looking a bit dazed, walked over drunkenly to where Christa was standing. She swung an arm around her shoulders, "Hey babe, i—_hic_, I got you a drink—". Christa's face instantly went red, the next instant Ymir moved her face so close to Christa's, in an attempt to kiss her, before showing off the bottle she held before in her hand. "Ymir!", Christa panicked, blushing harder as seconds passed, "Ymir, you're drunk!", she pinched Ymir's cheek. Marco guessed that Christa had never dealt with a drunk person before.

"GOD FUCKING DAMN IT, JAEGER!"

That voice felt familiar, and Marco quickly jumped from the sofa and dashed to the source of the voice , curious and full of hope (he didn't want to deal with drunk Ymir too, so that was another reason). He went into Christa's backyard, and there he was.

After seeing who was the one uttering the curse, he thought, _Finally_. His lips slowly slid into a smirk, waiting for Jean to finally show up felt like an _eternity _to him.

With Eren in front of him, a bruise on his cheek still visible even under the dim light. And a crowd had gathered around the two to watch them. Some of them cheered and some of the booed. Or, betting about who was going to win; like Connie and Reiner. The others who were disinterested with the fights that often happened between the two, placed themselves inside to avoid the ruckus.

"What's wrong, Jean? Can't take a little joke?",Eren mocked, brushing the back of his hand against his bruised cheek. Jean spat on the grass, before lunging forward towards Eren, "You little prick!". But his punch missed—oh wait, it _didn't _miss. It could've hit Eren, if only Eren didn't anticipate the move and used a circular movement to avoid Jean's punch. And instead, he sent him down to the ground. The crowd instantly went _"OOOOHHH—"_ , and Marco could hear Connie yelling _"Hell yeah!"_, in the background (he probably bet for Jean to lose). There was something inside him that told him to stop this fight (he didn't want Jean to get hurt, actually), but then again… He didn't know the two.

Just as Jean stood up, and Eren was about to land a kick to Jean's face, a woman with a red scarf swung around her neck appeared next to Eren; holding him by the fabric on his shoulders and yanking him away from Jean. "Wha-? HEY! Mikasa, stop!",Eren struggled to free himself from the woman's grip, but the woman simply looked at him. "Eren, don't waste your time fighting him. It's useless.", before setting averting her stare into the living room, dragging Eren along with her. "But I need to teach that horse face a lesson!", was the last thing Eren said before he was out of Jean's sight. "Yeah! Keep running away with her, loser!", Jean mocked Eren, even though Marco would dare to say that Eren couldn't even hear him right now.

With the fight ended, the people who had went into Christa's house, now went back outside. The crowd had also dispersed, minding their own business. Marco tried to blend in with them; sitting next to Hanji, and around the table were Levi, Reiner, Connie, and Sasha (a girl who he had happened to met in high school, Marco thought she didn't change a bit, for the fact she still love eating _that _much).

And much to his surprise, of all the seats Jean could've taken, he took the one next to Marco.

_The one. Next. To. Marco._

Marco almost screamed in surprise because of this, but he managed to keep it to himself and kept his mouth shut. "It's obvious Eren won!", Connie argued with Reiner, regarding his bet with him. Since Eren got dragged away by Mikasa, the two argued who won the fight. "Tsch, it's obvious that _I _won.", Jean intervened, and Connie only let out a small, unamused sigh. "Dude, you got hella more bruises than he did.", he pointed at Jean's hands, which were scraped by the rough ground. The grass decided to not be friendly to Jean, or so it seemed. "You mean the ones I got are more visible than Eren's.", Jean continued, refusing to accept the fact that he actually _did _got even more bruises than Eren. Levi, as usual, only kept his mouth shut and enjoyed his drink. Hanji only looked at the two—Make that _three _(Reiner joined the stupid argument, fighting on Jean's side so he would win the bet)¸with an amused face. Hanji had told him earlier on the night (he and Hanji got to know each other for a while) that human interactions always had amused her, and that she was about to enroll for sociology major for university... That was, until fashion changed her life.

Marco was stuck between joining the stupid argument, watching the three of them argue, or just sit there and keep his mouth shut. And to his surprise, he decided the first. "Well, technically… Jean won, since Eren backed out.". The next instant, Reiner's, Jean's, and Connie's eyes were on him; which made Marco quite uncomfortable. _ I shouldn't have said that, _he thought to himself, cursing in his mind. He forgot the fact that he wasn't really _that _close to the three, so suddenly jumping into the conversation might not be a good idea.

But the next thing that happened was outside of the scenario that he had thought of. "Great job, man!", Jean smirked and swung an arm around Marco's shoulders, which admittedly made Marco scream inside. "Three versus one. You lose, baldy.", Reiner smirked, high – fiving Jean. Connie groaned, before he finally agreed with Reiner's statement and brought out his wallet, pulling off $7 from it and set it on the table. The next second that Reiner's hands were on the table, the money was gone. Jean looked at Reiner with a '_dude-you-fucking-owe-me'_ look, but Reiner dismissed it by sticking his tongue out.

"Hey man, thanks.", Jean finally lifted his arm from Marco's shoulder. Marco only nodded, "Yeah.". "Without you, Marco-", Marco's brain almost stopped working. He never thought this guy would even remember his name. "-Reiner would've lost to him and I'd look like an idiot.", Jean chuckled, nudging Marco lightly on the ribs with his elbow.

Marco decided that this conversation thing will turn out just fine.

* * *

"And the next thing he knew, he was stuck on that mud for 3 hours!", and that sentence was all that it took to make Marco burst into laughter, a hand holding his stomach which hurt so much. "You're kidding me!", he finally managed to say something, and Jean's response was only a frantic shook of his head. He was too busy laughing as well, apparently. "I'm fucking serious!", Jean mumbled, and stopped laughing. Marco stopped laughing also. He looked at Marco straight in his eyes, his eyes dead serious; while Marco forced himself to keep eye contact with this guy.

It didn't even took 5 seconds of eye contact, for them to burst into laughter.

"Wait, dude!", Jean's laugh slowly faded away. He took out his cellphone from his jacket's pocket, and Marco scooched closer to him, trying to see what he was trying to do. Apparently, Jean was opening his twitter account. "I bet I can guess your password.", Marco smirked, looking at Jean with challenging eyes. "Can you?", he turned his eyes back to his phone, typing his password as fast as he could. Which, wasn't really that fast.

"It's 'a meow rick uh'.", and with that, Jean's response was a '_how-the-fuck-dude' _face, which was enough for Marco to felt like this could be acknowledged as a skill. "What the hell, man?!". "It wasn't that easy to read, Jean.", Marco chuckled, and Jean only pouted as he tapped the blue 'sign in' button.

It didn't took long for Jean to be logged into his twitter account. The two decided to follow each other on twitter. And Marco, forgot the fact that he had already followed Jean, _and _Jean had already followed him back. When Marco told Jean his embarrassing twitter username (which, he always had planned to change into something else but never really put much thought into it), Jean laughed, "Really, Marco? Bodtizzle?". "It– It was a suggestion from a friend, okay?!".

And when the two knew that they were following each other already, Marco snorted. Marco quickly looked away, feeling kind of embarrassed. "That was kind… of cute.", Jean muttered, barely above a whisper. Marco's eyes were suddenly looking at Jean's. He couldn't believe what he had said, "What?", he said in disbelief, feeling his cheeks heat up. Jean's cheeks turned a bit red (though not really that visible), "Nothing.", he smiled.

* * *

It was 11 AM. Ymir, still drunk as ever, had offered Jean and Marco a few bottles of beer. Marco accepted them, though not _all _of them. He didn't want to get drunk, he just figured that a little sip of alcohol might ease things up a bit for him. And as for Jean, well, he didn't really like alcohol. He told Marco that the first time he tried it, he vomited and vomited, and got sick for days after.

* * *

12 AM. Marco had already drunk more than three glasses of beer, thanks to Ymir's persuasion and the previous glasses of beers he had (which, influenced him to get more). By then, he couldn't really talk straight anymore. But thank God, Jean could still understand him. When he walked to go to the bathroom or to grab some food, he turned to be a little clumsy, and often leaned on things. Jean was afraid that Marco would hurt himself, so he always walked besides him whenever Marco went to get food or anything else. If Marco was about to grab another glass (which, he _did _attempt to), Jean would swat his hands away and tell him something like, "Man, you're already fucking drunk! Do you even know what you're saying?!".

The two suddenly ended up in a game of spin the bottle. Mikasa, Eren, Armin, Jean, Sasha, Marco, Christa, and (still drunk, and probably would be until the morning) Ymir sat in form of a circle, around a small table in Christa's dining room. Christa stood up, and opened one of the cabinets to take out an empty bottle. They finally settled for an empty bottle of ketchup. "Alright, who spins first?", Armin asked, eyeing each participant of this little game. None of them raised their hands or say that they would do it, so he figured out that he had to pick someone.

"How about Christa?",Eren said before Armin even could open his mouth. "She's the owner of the house.", he continued. Armin nodded in agreement, before looking at Mikasa. Mikasa didn't gave him any verbal answers, but she gave him a small nod. Marco and Ymir (who were both a bit drunk, well really drunk for Ymir) didn't need to be questioned, Armin figured. They might just go along with it. Sasha, who was too busy with her boiled potato, was excluded from the questioning. "For once, I agree with you.", Jean gave Eren a dissatisfied smile, which earned him a kick in the knee from under the table. Jean was about to stand up and lunge at Eren, but there were two reasons why he didn't. One, Mikasa. That woman was a great martial artist, she could kick both his and Eren's butt whenever she wanted to. Second, Marco was clinging to his arms.

"Marco—Hey!", Jean shook his body, trying to get Marco's hands off from his arm, his cheeks turning red. But alas, his attempts failed, and all he could do was let Marco do what he wanted to do. Mikasa looked at Jean strangely, while Eren's mouth silently moved as if he was saying, _"Fucking gay."_.

Jean almost jumped when Marco moved his head to lay on Jean's neck, which made Jean _extremely _nervous. Marco must've felt Jean's body trembling with all the nervousness, because the next thing he did was turn his head, so his face was buried in Jean's neck. "You smell so good…", he slurred, a bit muffled by Jean's neck. Jean felt his body went stiff, and he was frozen in place. "M – Marco- would you g – get of me?", he stuttered. Marco, much to Jean's surprise remembering how drunk he was, quickly raised his head, "Oui, mon chéri.". And again, Eren silently said, _"Fucking gay."._

"Guys, Marco should spin the bottle!". Everyone participating in the game looked at Sasha in surprise. While Marco himself, was too out of character for his usual self. "I mean, he might get a chance to kiss _someone_…", Sasha turned to look at Jean, and Jean felt like this was definitely not a good sign.

And so Marco spun the 's eyes (except for the drunk ones) were on the bottle, curious where it might've landed.

It ended up with the cap pointing at Jean.

Jean wished a car would crash over Christa's house and hit him because he was _extremely _nervous. He kept repeating in his mind, that it was just a game. Just a dingy little game, nothing more. "Marco, your turn!", Sasha cheered happily, poking Marco in the shoulder, while eyeing Jean. Jean felt his hands getting clammier, a sign that he was definitely not up for this. "Huh? _Hic_, me?", he slurred, raising his head from the table to look at the bottle for a few seconds, before finally looking at Jean, a smirk plastered to his face and one eyebrow raised.

Jean felt a mix of nervousness, anxiety, and excitement hit his guts.

Jean didn't know what exactly happened, but Marco's hand was suddenly on him, cupping his face as Marco closed the distance between him and Jean. Jean felt his face heat up as he felt Marco's lips against his; one part of his mind told him to push Marco away, while the other part of his mind told him to keep this thing going on. He decided that he would go for the second, and so he closed his eyes.

Their first closed – mouthed kiss suddenly turned into something far more _dangerous _and _hot_, for both Marco and Jean (though he still wouldn't admit it and wouldn't submit to this pleasure). Marco darted his tongue to Jean's mouth, tasting the roof of his mouth, tangling his tongue with Jean's.

One of Marco's hand were behind Jean's head, sometimes ruffling his hair, tangling his hand in Jean's soft brown hair, or sometime scratching his undercut. Though that hand's main job, was to keep to keep Jean's head still, as he was struggling to break free from Marco. The other hand… Had a far different job. Marco used his other hand to slowly unbutton the buttons of Jean's shirt. Their breath came in short pants, and Jean felt his heart beating so fast, he thought it might burst out (which he thought might be better than _this_).

Jean broke the kiss, a thin strand of saliva formed between their mouths, "M – Marco! Dude—Stop—", Jean didn't get to finish his sentence, because Marco had already yanked him into another heated kiss. Even though Jean didn't want to, a moan spilled from his lips, and he quickly regretted it afterwards. Marco, even though he was drunk, he managed to figure out that kisses would shut Jean up. At least, for a few seconds."Fucking stop—ahn, du – dude!".With all the heat and the smell of alcohol leaking out from Marco's mouth, Jean couldn't think straight anymore. He didn't even _know _ if Sasha and the others were still there, or had left them to be alone, just the two of them.

Too many things were buzzing in Jean's head, before he decided to use his hands to push Marco away on his shoulders. "Jean, why did you _hic _pushed _hic _me?", Marco's face was suddenly incredibly closer to Jean's, "I thought you loved it.", he slurred.

Jean quickly stood up, before Marco could even grab him by his hands. Both their faces were cherry red by then, but it wasn't like Marco could remember any of this. Fueled with rage, disbelief, and embarrassment (though he had to admit to himself that inside, he was a bit happy), Jean walked to Christa's garage to ride his motorcycle back home, buttoning his shirt on the way there while people look at him with confused eyes.

* * *

The next morning, Marco felt like there were seven mallets placed around his head, to pound his head continuously. He groaned, before flicking his eyes slowly and took a look at his surroundings. He was on his bed. _His _bed, in _his _apartment.

"What the hell happened last night—ugh…", he groaned, placing a hand to massage his pounding head. Marco didn't even remember a single thing about yesterday. Well he did, but he couldn't say he remembered everything _clearly_. His memory were all jumbled up. And how the hell did he even got to his own house? Marco knew that Christa wouldn't let any guest go home drunk. So did she drove him back to his apartment?

Marco looked to his right side, and found his cellphone on the nightstand. He was feeling a bit lazy and dazed (did he really drank that much alcohol?), so he used his right hand to take the phone, and slowly dialed Christa's number.

"Nggh, Christa?", Marco managed to say something even though he felt like his head was breaking into pieces. "Marco!", judging from Christa's tone, something happened yesterday. Something bad. Her voice sounded like she was relieved. Was she worried? What was she worrying about?

"I'm glad you're alright.", she let out a relieved sigh. Marco groaned, moving around in his bed, trying to find a comfortable position—or at least, one that'd make him feel less hurt on his head. "My head felt like it's being pound like a mallet, so I won't exactly say that I'm alright.", Marco replied, his voice just a bit above a whisper, "What happened last night, anyway?".

There were a few seconds of silence, and Marco was the one to break it, "Oh shit did I do anything stupid?". "Please tell me I didn't.", he continued, hoping that he did not fuck things up. Especially, with Jean around him back then. "Well, um…", Christa paused, hesitating if she should tell the truth or lie, or just keep it all to herself and hung up on Marco. She decided the first, "You got drunk, and Eren had to drive you home.". Even though both Marco and Eren didn't know each other that well, Marco thanked God for the existence of that guy. He might need to send a little 'thank you' message to Eren.

"Oh and… Um…", Christa was hesitating if she should finish her sentence on the other side. Marco, getting a little bit impatient and uneasy, afraid if he screwed things up,cut her off, "And what?".Christa sighed before replying, "You kissed Jean.".

_Oh shit i did not do that_, he thought to himself, cursing the fact that he actually did. _I'm screwed_.

"Ymir told me you even unbuttoned his clothes while you were at it.", she continued, "But Ymir was as drunk as you were, or even worse. So I can't be sure."_I'm fucking screwed, _he thought. Marco didn't say anything about it, which made Christa felt uneasy and a little bit worried. "Marco, you're alright?",she sounded worried, and Marco didn't like to make anyone feel worried about him too much. "It's… It's fine.", he responded weakly, forcing himself to smile even though he knew Christa couldn't see it.

Christa, still sounding a little worried, decided that it would probably best not to keep the call too long, since Marco might need some rest and didn't want to be disturbed. "I've got to go now. Get well soon, Marco.". "Yeah yeah—", Marco paused when the phone suddenly let out an irritating 'beep beep', telling him that the call had ended.

Marco groaned in his bed, his head still hurting from all the alcohol he drank, and his mouth still reeked of alcohol. He decided that he would get some shut eye, though the reason wasn't because he felt tired (well he did, but not really that much), the reason was to get the '_I-fucked-things-up-Jean-is-totally-going-to-fuckin g-hate-me' _thought off from his head.

* * *

Later on the same day, Marco felt slightly better. Better enough for him to took a shower, wear proper clothing, and went to the nearest Starbucks. Which, wasn't really that far, only a 5 – minutes walk from Marco's apartment.

The one on the cashier, was apparently Sasha. "Sasha?", Marco asked her, looking a bit confused. Sasha turned from her place, noticing Marco's presence, then walked back to her station. "Oh, hi Marco!", she grinned. Marco never saw this kid being sad so far, and he wondered how could this Starbucks still existed with Sasha inside; remembering that Sasha liked food a tad bit too much. "I think I'll have…", Marco looked at the menu for a minute, his hand on his chin, trying to decide which one he should pick. Then again, he didn't really feel that thirsty or anything. He just thought that one starbucks coffee might get his mind off of things. He looked at the food display, which almost half of it was gone. _Probably Sasha_, he thought to himself. He looked at the menu board again, and finally decided on something.

"Caramel frappucino.", he coughed before repeating himself, "I guess I'll have a medium sized – caramel frappucino.". Sasha nodded, entering the order into the system, "Okay, with whip cream, or not?". Marco shook his head, and Sasha printed out his receipt and told him to wait. Marco thanked her before going to the other side of the shop, to grab a seat and wait there until his order was done.

"Hi Jean!"

Marco couldn't believe what he just heard. Who was that guy Sasha was talking to? He hoped that it was _another _Jean, not theJean he knew, and not the Jean he drunkenly kissed last night. He looked to the cashier, and found a guy wearing the same sweater as he did. Marco gasped, but not that loud for both Sasha and the guy to hear.

Yep, that was definitely the Jean he kissed last night. Jean Kirschtein.

Marco looked away to the window, trying to distract his thoughts from Jean and as an effort for Jean to not be able to see him. Marco's mind was full with many things now. Should he just get out from the store and leave his frappucino? Or should he stay here and wait for it? Or if he even had the guts to do it, should he approach Jean and apologize for what he (didn't know that he had) done?

"Marco! Yours is done!", Sasha yelled from her counter, and Marco's body almost jolted up. Jean's eyes were on him, and he knew it. Marco walked over to the counter and picked up his order, avoiding eye contact with Jean before going back to his seat. He could hear Jean let out somewhat of a disappointed sigh, while waiting for his order. Jean seated himself on a chair not far from Marco. From where Marco was, Marco could see him. But Jean, however, couldn't see him. Did he do this on purpose? Jean, that bastard (then again, it was _Marco _who kissed Jean while he was drunk last night).

_Come on Bodt, man up!_, he thought to himself, _You have got to apologize to him_.

Marco didn't know what came over him, but he felt that he had the courage to do it. He could pull it off, was what he thought. And so he stood up from where he was and walked to where Jean sat. Marco seated himself on a chair, on the opposite side of the table where Jean was. They sat there in silence, and Jean looked at Marco with a surprised face. And Marco? He avoided eye contact.

Finally, he urged himself to do it, twisting the fabric on his thighs, giving himself a pinch. Marco broke the silence, "Jean I um—", he paused, realizing that he hadn't planned what he should say. "I'm really sorry.". Well, that definitely wasn't the best that he could say. Jean kept his gaze locked with Marco's, forcing him to make eye contact with him. Marco did, and seconds later he averted his gaze. He wasn't really that much for eye contact, especially when he was nervous.

"I—uh, I didn't mean to um—do that, I uh—". His mind quickly made another sentence, which meant the same, but before he managed to fix his previous sentence, Jean had already made his reply. "Yeah.", Jean tapped his fingers on the wooden table, looking at the wooden table. Marco guessed that Jean probably didn't want to talk about that, in which, Marco was officially done for.

The two didn't open their mouths to say anything, and Marco started to think that he was stupid and this was a bad idea from the start. He should just send a text message to apologize to him, was what he thought of during the silence. He kept cursing in his mind about how stupid he was.

But thank God, his guess was wrong. "You were really that drunk, huh?", Jean smiled. Wait, had the guy already forgiven him? Was it really that easy? Forgiving someone who kissed oneself drunkenly (and even opening one's shirt while doing so) wasn't exactly an easy thing to do. "Uhh… Yeah?", Marco answered, a bit doubtful. Even though he was drunk, he was pretty sure his actions were influenced by his feelings towards Jean. Jean chuckled, "You weren't half bad.", he laughed. Marco felt his cheeks heat up, _Wait, does that mean he thinks I'm not a bad kisser?_.God, this guy, totally thank God he was unbelievable.

They continued chatting about random things, as if yesterday had never existed . And with every sentence he said to Marco, and every laugh that leaked out from his mouth, Marco felt his heart getting warmer. And with every second he spend with Jean, he felt his heart getting warmer and warmer.

* * *

**Small announcement (a.k.a. author's note pt. 2)** **:** Hello! If you don't want to read this part, I'm 100% okay with it! uvu I just want to inform you guys that I'm opening commissions, for both art and writing uvu They're not really that expensive (especially fanfics oh god), so i guess if you want one or a dozen, hit me up with an ask on tumblr! uvu Full details regarding to commissions and stuff, can be seen here : commissions

If you have any questions, feel free to message me here on or tumblr! u3u


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